Grief: “My Gentle Shadow”

In October 2020, I took a 30-day Writing Your Grief course with Megan Devine. One of the prompts asked us to spend 20 minutes personifying grief by giving it a voice and imagining what it might look like.

Below is what I wrote while exploring who Grief was to me and how she appeared within my own living space.

The exercise influenced my future writing as I began personifying other emotions and life experiences. This approach has continued to help me see the heaviness of emotions as a separate part of me rather than something that I am.

I hope you enjoy meeting the first character I ever wrote and seeing how she inspired the ones that came after.

Sincerely,
Vera Lynn

—

“My Gentle Shadow” by Vera Lynn

You are often too distracted by the sight of Death cloaked in black during the finale act of stealing lasts breaths to notice the presence of Grief waiting in the shadows. Grief presents herself in tattered grey, tiptoeing closer in the moment of panic after Death runs away. 

If you sit still and listen closely, you can hear the faint whispers of Grief calling, “I’m hear my dear. I know you are in pain. Relieve your tears, and let your sobs echo.” Grief gently lays her hand on your shoulder, her mothering touch offering comfort to your soul. 

“I will be here and stay with you for a while,” she says. “But don’t mind me. I can make my own place and meet my own needs.” She unpacks her bags and sets her bed in the corner of the room. 

Grief then slips into the kitchen and teases the cat into knocking over the little basket where your tea is stored. You go to follow the sound, realizing a cup of peppermint tea sounds fitting for the ache in your throat. 

She drags a blanket to the floor, sets out a candle, and pulls a book about loss just slightly out of place so you will notice. Again, you follow the shuffles. You pick up the blanket to create a spot for yourself on the sofa. You notice the candle in front of you, then go to find a lighter. On the way, you notice a book sticking out of place on the bookshelf. You grab the book. You grab the lighter. You settle into the corner of the sofa, making a space for yourself, while Grief sits in the opposite corner, quietly waiting to listen. 

Grief takes her time and allows for silence. Grief does not panic when the silence morphs into screaming. She just sits, knowing the journey ahead is long, but that you both will get to know each other well in time.